My vision seems to be consumed at the moment, for I am a not a healthy man nor do I have the most "positive" forecast for the rest of my life. Words strike me hard at times from what the doctors have predicted about my life and often leaves me with more unanswered questions rather than simple answers. For one, I know that the medication I have recently been on is rather damaging in some aspects, and have been told that a kidney transplant is likely to be in my future. When my cross falls upon my shoulders to carry, what is my reaction to this in light of the eternal gifts that far outweigh this prognosis? How would you react, knowing that this has been proclaimed over you? I for one, in light of my God of the Impossible, cannot fear, for no one save God himself has the power to plan my future and carry it out. Draw me gently Lord to you, so that I can fall and surrender to the cross I will bear joyfully for you. True, I am broken right now, but I am more content, more satisfied with my Creator than I have ever been. It is a joy unspeakable. If I had to choose between health and effectiveness for the Lord, I choose to be effective.
And in the midst of these trials that will never end, even if I burry my head in the sand to ignore them, I know that even though I am called to the fire, God will not leave me alone. Though I know I may be consumed by the fire and fall on the wayside, I know that I will still praise my God. In the book of Daniel, Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego were "called" to the fire because of their faithfulness to the true God. My God still finds me in that fiery furnace today, and will for all of us I know, walking around with me so that he can get the glory through our lives; not in greed but because he alone is worthy. Trials beckon me to fold and break under the fears that the world tries to hold me under, keeping me ineffective for the Lord. But they are not my God nor have they given me a future. The world seems to be screaming at me to give up and buckle; the lies of the enemy are proclaiming death to me. Yet I breathe life and say "Yes" to God, "no matter what, I will follow you wholeheartedly."
He has called me to the furnace, to the fire that consumes. It is both purging and difficult, but it is not the end. This is not the end. The world cannot show me that it has power over me, nor can trials dictate my future or my reactions.
I go back to the hospital today, knowing that my precarious situation could spell more difficult things for me to carry. I know that the rejection in my liver is not over, and I won't find out the results for at least a week regarding the next liver biopsy I have to take. I could have a few more tests that could produce fear in me. But the world is not my god. Christ is. I could spend the next few days looking in the mirror with fear, hoping that my eyes don't turn yellow because of a failing liver, or be immobilized in telling people about God's continued goodness to me wherever I go. But in this furnace, God will not withdraw himself from me, but will be in the midst, producing in me the endurance to finish, and win, the race set before me. What I see and feel is not my god, Christ is.
In His Grip,
